Gifts of a Different Kind

     Oh?

     Who am I? Ah, well, I suppose that although I know you, you may not know me. Well – you might not realize you know me at least. My name is Dave. But that's not what you know me as. You know me as another name. Why, friend, I am the Discarded Magical Blue Grundo Plushie of Prosperity. You seem surprised. I suppose I would be too, if I were in your shoes. I could tell you my story, but it's rather long and sad. But there is one thing you much know. I used to be a normal Grundo, with a taste for exploration and adventure. Now, in my stationary state, life is very different.

     I used to travel though the stars, and wonder through Neopia. I had met many Neopians, and seen a great many things.

     No . No, do not feel sorry for me. Life isn't horrible as a silent, still plushie. Oh, have I ever seen some wonderful things! You see, my life before was all very hurried – frantic even. Now in my prone form, I can see so much.

     Oh what stunning sighs have these eyes seen! From my perch on his old tree I have held the best seat in all of Neopia.

     Have you ever stopped to watch the Air Faeries dance? They sway like tree branches in the wind. Have you heard the twinkling chimes of the Fountain Faerie's song? She sings nearly every Tuesday night. Have you witnessed the procession of the Queen Faerie, in all royal splendors? The banners and fanfare are quite a sight to behold! Have you, my well traveled friend, seen the rain fall in Faerieland? Although rare, it comes down like liquid starlight dazzling in the sun's mighty glow. After those rains both nature and buildings alike shimmer like incandescent pearls.

     Stunning, isn't it? Though those are not my treasured days. Although beautiful and awe inspiring as they are, the visits from my friends I hold in high regard.

     Some days my friends visit only for a moment, speaking to me. They say hello and good bye – busy, I suppose, with their adventures. Some tell me tales of their days; some recent, others long since past. Though I cannot reply, I have been told on many occasions I am a grand listener. Only one of my friends knows that I can listen, that I truly do care.

     She is like me in a way. In her eyes I can see the weight she carries, the burden on her shoulders. She's the only one who knows that I am no ordinary Plushie.

     Her name? Why, she is Baelia – the Grey Faerie.

     She comes less than my other friends (who have a habit of visiting daily). I may see her monthly. From what I have gleaned from the talks, she is not welcome in the Faerie Court, and very other places. She wonders about Neopia, and sometimes stops in to see me. Some days she talks to me, other days she simply keeps me company. On her chatty days, she'll tell me about her travels, about the kindness of strangers, but she always seems to leave when my friends are on their way. She is my favorite friend, and she is the friend I cannot help.

     No, no it's not because I haven't tried. Like all of my friends, I try to give a gift; some neopoints, a book maybe, or a full belly (a host should always be gracious, even if it is a tree that visitors stop by to). However no matter how hard I try, no matter how desperate her need, I am unable to help her. Nothing I try to send to her ever gets to her. But each time I fail, she still returns and speaks with me. I don't think she knows that I try, but I do. The last time I saw her was three months ago. I thought it would be another one of her quieter visits. I thought she merely needed someone to be next to.

     However, after a long while, she began to speak.

     "So much... So much has been taken away." Her voice was soft and low, her eyes still held that far away look. "Both of us, we've both lost so much."

     Yes, I thought, I know.

     She took a breath as if to work up her nerve to speak again. "I've lost...." She paused, and then looked up at me with wide eyes. "I don't even know your name, you know."

     Dave, I thought. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Faerie.

     "I have a name. It's nearly all I have now." She continued on, "I am Baelia. But it doesn't.... it doesn't matter any longer. You see, I've lost my wings." She gestured to her back. "I have a name, but because I lost my wings my old name... it doesn't amount to much."

     That's horrible, I thought. I continued to watch her, waiting for her response. It took a little while longer.

     "There are few things that can be taken from me, I've learned. My wings, they're gone. My home, my family – all of it, it's all gone." She took a breath once again, and looked up at me. "They can't take my name. It's mine, but it now is a sign of what I am now. But, I've one thing that I have that they cannot take away from me. That is, not without my permission."

     The look in her eyes then shocked me. It was a look of desperation and of conviction.

     "Hope. It's the only thing I have, now. The hope that I'll find a new name, that I'll not be this way forever." I watched as the desperation in her eyes transformed into determination. "I'm finding a new name, somehow. I'll get it, just you see Mr. Grundo. If – no, when I do, I will come find you. I'll come and break whatever it is you're under."

     It wasn't long after her speech that she bid me goodbye – two of my other friends were coming and she had to leave.

     However, her words still echo in these very ears three months later. Since then I've thought about her words, her determination. I worry for her, while waiting on my daily friends to arrive. It is a dangerous place out in Neopia. It is not like my perch where I am safe. There are more villainous individuals out there now, as I hear from your tales. But now, I see what she means about hope – I understand it more.

     You see, before I had thought that all there would ever be is my perch on this tree. Every so often, in my dreams and imaginings, I see her returning. I see her coming back, to help me be normal again. I see us all becoming friends, and you coming to visit me in a true home where we exchange stories and tales.

     So, my friend, would you do something for me? I don't ask for much, I promise. If you see my friend, Baelia the Grey Faerie, would you give her a message for me should you see her?

     Would you tell her, that an old Grundo strung up in a tree wishes for her to know something. You see, a name is given, and that is what I wish to give her. Would you tell her that her new name is Hope, because she has given this old Grundo hope that life will change, that things will be better. Please, my friend. It is not something I can do or else I would. Give her my message, my friend. Perhaps then we shall both be able to talk about adventures and tales from so long ago.

The End